Biggest Fan
by Mesita
Summary: [MuraWolf] Murata watches Wolfram train and contemplates on what he knows is out of his reach. Oneshot.


Biggest Fan

By: Li-bii

Disclaimer: Do not own Kyou Kaya Maou.

Fire is an ever-changing entity. It can burn everything it touches, and yet without fire, man could not have survived. Fire disinfects, cooks food, brings warmth to the home, and shares its light with the darkness.

It has been said that those who can control fire can also control the actions of others. They may act as a guide, a killer, a chef, a maid or in some rare cases… a bitchy, self-centered, paranoid demon prince.

It wasn't that Murata was particularly fascinated with fire and he was far from a pyromaniac, but even for someone who had lived as long as the Sage, watching a Fire Mage practice was an event of epic proportions in and of itself. Murata had known his fair share of Fire Mages in the past, but he didn't pay them much mind, for he was always with Shinou. Shinou demanded frequent attention and a constant supply of Murata's boosting powers, but in the end, not even Shinou was accomplished in dealing with fire. No, his expertise was a different area of maryoku entirely.

For centuries, Murata had been without maryoku, so when he was plunged back into the country of Shin Makoku, watching those who could use their maryoku had become a long-forgotten pastime.

It had taken Murata an entire month to realize that he had been frequenting Blood Pledge Castle more than he had in the past. There were such long amounts of time he spent at the castle that even Ulrike had sent a summons for the Sage to return to Shinou's Temple for a particularly dull and pointless ceremony.

Murata knew why he was being drawn toward the castle. There was a certain skilled prince in maryoku that he was quite fond of watching.

Wolfram von Bielefeld, the fiancé to the Maou, was practicing his Art of Fire in the castle courtyard. It seemed that when Wolfram wasn't prodding Yuuri for some reason or another, he was practicing his maryoku or swordsmanship. Murata had never once said a word about this matter. He knew that if Wolfram knew someone was watching him practice, they would be threatened with a string of quite vulgar insults.

So Murata kept himself hidden behind a pillar, careful not to let the light shine on his glasses so he would not give himself away.

Wolfram would practice for a good two hours nearly every day. He had perfected his fire down to an art so that every flame was in place and he wouldn't burn anything he had not intended. He may not have been so intent on training like this before, but Murata had heard the castle maids speak of a duel Wolfram had participated in where one of the maids had been injured in a rogue blaze.

If Wolfram was practicing for their sake, then maybe, Murata hoped, maybe he wasn't all that self-centered as he liked people to believe.

Or maybe it was the self-centered-ness that attracted Murata to Wolfram in the first place. Wolfram held a striking resemblance to Shinou after all, and something like that couldn't just be coincidence. Shinou had been just as stubborn and self-righteous as Wolfram had ever been, too.

…except Shinou had a bit more muscle to him and more manly qualities, but you can't win them all.

Murata turned his attention back to Wolfram's form. He seemed to dance when he shot out the balls of fire from his hands. Did he have a sort of form he used to focus his energy, now? Not to mention, Wolfram had to have been using up a lot of energy to practice as much as he did. Most of the time, he didn't even use the fire, but would go through his form and make a small noise to symbolize where fire would be shot out.

It was a very beautiful encounter to behold, and it held Murata transfixed. Hell, it was better than watching TV and that was one of Murata's favorite inventions of the prosperous scientific Earth.

This day, however, was slightly different. Wolfram must have wanted to try something new because he had started a form Murata didn't recognize. This time around, Wolfram used his fire and not just the small noises for symbolization. Murata clutched the pillar, mesmerized, with his jaw drooping open. Where had Wolfram learned moves like that? Had he always been that flexible?

After a wonderfully executed routine, Wolfram slowed to a stop and let himself breathe for a while, as if it would aid in retaining his maryoku.

Behind the pillar, heart pound in his chest, Murata fought back the urge to go out and congratulate Wolfram on such wonderful performance… but he was afraid of singed eyebrows and held back. Had Wolfram shown anyone these before? Why didn't he ever get the chance to use his techniques on an enemy? Murata was so absorbed in the aftermath of the routine, that he didn't even realize there was a voice behind him.

"Enjoying the show?"

Murata's eyes widened and he glanced back into the courtyard, a bit shocked to see that it was empty. With a bit of a weak laughter he turned around to face Wolfram. "Quite, actually. Have you been practicing long?"

"Hmph!" Wolfram gave his signature scoff and folded his arms. "I think you already know the answer to that one."

Murata raised an eyebrow. Wolfram had known all this time? "What are you so upset for? I enjoy watching you practice." For some reason, Wolfram gave Murata a heated stare and turned an awkward shade of red. As much as Murata had hoped it would be something else, he knew that it must have been embarrassing to receive a compliment from the Great Sage.

"Because it's… embarrassing and… and you're not supposed to watch me you pervert!" Wolfram was breathing hard, a little out of anger and mostly because he was still out of breath from before.

Murata gave a chuckle, looking unfazed. So he was a pervert, now? He could go for that one. He even tilted his head so that his glasses caught the light and they glinted. "My cover has been blown. Should I go report to Shibuya, now?"

"N-NO!" Wolfram shouted immediately, and then calmed down. "I mean… no, that isn't necessary. Don't bother Yuuri with something like this."

"Hm?"

Wolfram was fidgeting now and toying with his cravat. "It's a secret from him. I wanted to be able to surprise him with how much I've… improved."

The smirk on Murata's face disappeared and was replaced with a sad smile. Wolfram's heart had always belonged to Yuuri and probably always would. "I promise to keep it a secret…" He started, paused, and then gained his smirk back. "But on one condition."

"Oh, crap."

Murata laughed and adjusted his glasses again. "I just have to be able to watch you, now, that's all."

Wolfram pouted and made several attempts to convince Murata otherwise, but eventually gave in. Proud of himself, Murata made himself comfortable on a bench to watch Wolfram practice from a better view. He knew that his presence would make Wolfram either screw up or work harder, and it seemed like it was doing both. Wolfram was breaking a sweat a lot faster and his breathing was slightly off.

Murata had to chuckle to himself. Wolfram could love Yuuri all he wanted. Murata had exclusive rights to perv on the fiancé of the Maou.

He was content, for now.


End file.
